Almost all your friends are in serious relationships now (they paired off with someone seemingly all at once) and you’ve become the weird loser that somehow missed the boat. All of a sudden, you’re thinking pathetic thoughts like “I think I need more single friends so I can have someone to hang out with on a Saturday afternoon again.”
“This is my life. This is what’s happening in my life. This is who I’ve chosen to be with. The problem is that my choice is theoretically time-unlimited. This isn’t like ‘We’re monogamous for one more year.’ It’s more like ‘We’re monogamous… forever.’”
1. Corn on the cob 2. Buffalo wings 3. Spaghetti 4. Candy apple 5. Egg drop soup 6. Crunchy tacos + over-application of salsas and various watery sauces…
“Guys, there’s like, no beer left. Virtually no beer. Should we take shots? Who wants a shot? Raise your hand. Okay, I can’t… how many of you are there? We don’t have enough shot glasses then, so I’m gonna drink from the bottle and the rest of you can have a shot glass or drink from the bottle when I’m done. Someone pour the shots for us.”
You’ve blocked me on Facebook (the modern way of saying “I hate your guts!”) and you won’t even mention my name while in the presence of mutual friends. How did we get to this point? It makes me sick to think that someone who once meant so much to me could start to erase everything.
I saw something. It was tall. It turned me on, and I quickly began examining features. Shoulders, back, head, arms, legs, clothing, demeanor. In about 5 seconds I had decided I wanted this. Something I wanted to possess. A banal wish for completion through ownership stripped me of my self and quelled the beauty of my being.
When I’m high on painkillers, I get really dehydrated. I chug a lot of water and like to munch on popsicles. I sometimes joke that I have an opiate fridge. You look inside it and you just see tons of water and soft foods. I’m like Rachel Ray if she were on Vicodin.
Inspired by Tyler Cullen, a student at School of Visual Arts in New York City who went up to random people in Manhattan and asked them what they were listening to on their headphones, Joseph Jenson and Michael Fostiropoulos have applied the concept to London. Now, the natural question: from this random sample, who has better taste in music? London or New York?
It hurts that people only ask you to join them in a social event out of pity. Even if you say yes, inside you will remember that you’re vulnerable; a disadvantaged bottom-feeder taking charity. You almost enjoy yourself, until your ‘friend’ hooks arms with their partner and leaves you (they are going somewhere else, to be intimate together – without you. They don’t think about you, or care).
Time doesn’t really go very far at all. You’re not following a line with distance from beginning to now. You’re a mass within a mass and every moment of time passing is just mass changing, rotating. The pictures flash, and we can be very thankful for that. That memory gives us a portal to something gone; something we can’t get back.